


Passing the Baton

by Lilachigh



Category: Ballet Shoes - Noel Streatfeild
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:27:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23080948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilachigh/pseuds/Lilachigh
Summary: Manoff turns to his old friend for help and reassurance.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Passing the Baton

Passing the Baton by Lilachigh

The terrace of the Swiss hospital stretched along the side of the building, looking out over the snowy mountain tops, a cool, clean breeze filling the lungs of the patients who lay, wrapped in layers of blankets, hoping and praying that the chill air would clear their lungs of the disease that ravished them.

A man paced along the stone flags and stopped by a bundle of blankets and furs. Two sharp black eyes gazed out from under a fur toque and a thin white hand was raised, the rings heavy and loose against the swollen knuckles.

“Madame” He bent and kissed the hand and waited for a gesture to sit in the chair next to her lounger.

“Maitre Manoff.”

He asked after her health and she replied, “It is as it will always be. Now, we speak in English, because if you do not practice, you will forget.” There was almost a flicker of a smile, “Like steps in a ballet, perhaps.”

Manoff stretched out his long, muscular legs. “You know why I am here, of course.”

“I have heard. There have been letters. Lots of letters. I have the most important here, with me always.”

There was a rustling under the furs and she withdrew a rather crumpled piece of paper, obviously torn from an exercise book, covered in very large writing.

“I will read. “Dearest Madame, I don’t want to leave you but I have to learn from Maitre Manoff. I practice every day. I will always be, your Posy.”

“Brief and to the point.”

“Another child might have said “thank you,” I suppose. But she does not see dancing in that way. You pass on your knowledge, you guide and encourage. She accepts this as her right.”

“I wish you could have seen her: standing there on the stage, glaring at me, defying me to refuse her. I think I knew even before I saw her dance.”

“And when you did?”

There was a long pause, then, “I was scared. I still am. Are we looking at genius?”

“When she was six years old, I was terrified. What if I mismanaged, what if I pushed her too hard, too far, too fast. Then I realised, I couldn’t.”

“She is coming to Szolyva. The tour has ended and she and her nurse travel back with us. I am uprooting this English child and planting her in a foreign field. What if I destroy what we both think, no, what we both know, is there?”

“She will not worry about her surroundings.”

“She will be bullied. You know what the other members of the company will be like. Me, giving such attention to a child. I cannot be there to protect her all the time.”

“And then they will watch her dance. And understand.”

“Will you come to Czechoslovakia to see her?”

Madame Fidolia shook her head. “I will wait until she dances in London. My health is bad, but I refuse to die until then. Four, five years - I will hold out until then.”

“I will make sure she writes to you.”

“That would be pleasant, but she must look forward, not back. As must you. I have passed the baton and you must carry it forward.”

Manoff sighed and rubbed both hands though his hair. “I was going to retire, but now - not until I can partner her myself.”

He kissed her hand again and left. Madame watched him go and then returned to staring out at the Swiss Alps. She wondered if he truly understood what a responsibility he had been given. And if he realised that sometimes when you stood close to a flame, it could burn you away.

ends


End file.
